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Them lot that live in the Bermuda Triangle,
Want to consider thersens blinking lucky.
Theres a wess’en, right here in middla England,
Centred round a little village called “Ducky”.
Duckmanton, or “Ducky”, for short,
Is at the epicentre of the “Black Hole!”
If tha joins up Chesterfield, Bozer and Staveley,
Tha’ll find an area that’s lost its identity, lost it’s soul.
Substitute “coal-mine” for every boat or ship,
That’s disappeared or sunk to the bottom of the sea.
Substitute “steel-works” for every aircraft,
That's gone off the radar screen mysteriously.
Nobody here’s been abducted by aliens,
Or been swallowed up by some mythical, gigantic whale.
Just think - lives wasted in Bermuda’s triangle - times ten thousand,
To give you some idea of the scale.
Gone are the proud winding wheels,
That signified every pit-head.
No more Markham, Arkwright, Bozer or Glappy,
Just acres of rubble and weeds instead.
No more pipes from Staveley Works,
That used to carry all our gas and watter,
We can use plastic ones from abroad,
So, does it really matter?
Channel Tunnel’s been finished for years,
So we don’t need Markham’s Works anymore!
Same wi’ Bryan Donkins and Tube Works and Dema Glass,
We don’t need sweets from Trebor, that’s for sure!
Look on bright side, Rother’s never been so clean,
And there’s even some fish in River Doe Lea.
Thank you very much, Mr. Mcgregor,
But especially to you and your cronies, Mrs. T!
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